This is intended to be the start of a long-running series about the sexual awakening and resultant escapades of a Bisexual man. The kind of sex being depicted in each post will be different, as I will be exploring the way that being Bisexual affects your entire sex life. So there will be MM, MF, MMF, MFF, MMFF++ (i.e. orgy) scenes as the series goes on. This is the opener which is about the first gay sexual experience of the protagonist. This is all made up and is totally fictional, if informed by my own experiences as a sexually promiscuous bisexual man. The setting will be vaguely US, not sure if I’ll ever specify a city it’s based in.
# BI 101: Fundamentals of Dicksucking
If I had known the effect that accepting my bisexuality was going to have for my sex-life. I would have done it far sooner. As it was, it was only in the summer of 2017 that I came (if you’ll pardon the double entendre) to accept myself for who I was. All of 20 years of age, I was not a virgin, but I had not exactly had the most prolific of sex lives. Two girlfriends in high school, one of whom had taken my virginity were only augmented by one more sexual encounter during my first two years at college. It was a mystery to me at the time – I wasn’t a bad looking guy, I was in good shape, and I was pretty outgoing. I knew a lot of women, and they liked spending time around me, but I wasn’t fucking ANY of them. In the strange way that butterfly’s wings can change the universe it was something totally out of left field that led to the transformation of my sex life, and vast increase in the number of happy women and men who left my bedroom on a Thursday, Friday and Saturday night. Let’s play a game – see if you can guess what it was. Now, *don’t cheat*. Don’t look further down.
Wait for it.
Wait for it.
Any ideas?
I fell and broke my ribs.
How could that improve one’s sex life you ask? Well, as I had to lay off the triathlons, I had a long think about how dissatisfied I was with my body. As soon as I could run without being winded, I joined a gym, learned what a bro-split was and started packing on the muscle. Twenty kilos of biceps, pecs, quads and delts later, I had transformed my body into a personal work of art. And, have you ever met an artist who didn’t like his work being appreciated? I set myself the goal of making my body look as close to Michelangelo’s David as possible. Something to know about me – I achieve what I set my mind to. Which considering I started with the kind of Picasso-cubist body triathlons turn you into, was one hell of an improvement.
Along with this body transformation, being surrounded by bodies that were as similar to Michelangelo’s masterpiece as I was, certain facts about my anatomy became impossible to ignore. A steroid-infused gym locker room is a cornucopia of the finest phalluses dangling from the finest physiques man has to offer. Small dicks, fat short dicks, long thin dicks, and the holy grail – the fat, long slab of man meat that flops around as the man makes his way from locker to shower. You’d be amazed how much you can ‘mire a good dick using only peripheral vision.
Still, in spite of my emerging fascination with the phalluses of my changing room, the obvious conclusion from this didn’t get acted upon until a chance encounter.
A night out that had started at an ordinary bar turned into a pub crawl that terminated at a hip LGBT-friendly night club in the city. Across the smoky outdoor dancefloor, I saw him. Skipper. That was what I knew him as, and I never did bother to learn his name. Why Skipper? He was a boxer, which meant he spent his post-workout cool down skipping a rope while watching himself in the mirror and admiring his body. Let me tell you, there was plenty to admire. Maybe three inches over six feet, he had long limbs that were rippling with corded muscle. It should have been a hint to his sexuality that his gym gear left very little to your imagination, but you know how gym fuckboys are. Of course, I also knew what his most important part was like, from that afore-mentioned walk from locker to shower. Fat and maybe 6 inches on the flop, it was just past the large side of what I’ve come to consider the goldilocks dick. Not too long, not too short, and fat enough to make you feel it. It was just wide enough that blowjobs resulted in just the small amount of slobber it took to make you feel nasty, but not… unclean.
We noticed each other at the exact same time. Two creatures at the tiny intersection point of a Venn diagram of very specific subcultures. Men who focused on perfecting the male form and could appreciate the outcome of that effort. My opener was, “Fancy meeting you here!”, (please, cut me some slack – I was still learning the ropes). A conversation about weightlifting form and designing a programme to maximise strength and muscle gains went on for far too long, us both dancing around the obvious sexual tension. We both seemingly felt the fear that moving the conversation towards the sexual would result in rejection or even revulsion.
In the end, we were saved from our own fear of rejection by an angel, who was probably a more experienced man who could see what was happening. He, a slightly older man came up to us, put one hand on each of our shoulders and said, “Look at you both, fuck me!” with a whistle and then turned and left.
After a moment of awkward laughter, Skipper said, “I agree with that guy! About you, I mean, I love your back, and those big legs,” he made an exaggerated hoo-wee noise.
I laughed, “You’re not so bad yourself. Staring at you in that mirror during my cleans is going to put my spine out some day.”
He smiled, “Which part of me is it you get distracted by?”
“Oh, you know, the whole package,” I paused, “and *the* package.”
His smile broadened, “My place is a taxi ride away if you want to take this somewhere more private.”
“Mine is a fifteen minute walk, if you want a romantic, canal-side midnight walk thrown-in.”
That was the longest fifteen minutes of my life, as I started to think about just how little experience I had with this. *I’ve never even sucked a dick and here I am bringing a fucking mandingo home for my first time*, I thought to myself. When we arrived at my place, thankfully none of my housemates were awake still. Not sure how quick this was going to enter the no clothes, no turning back point of the evening, I made a half-hearted offer of a drink.
He shoved me against the wall and said, “You know exactly what I’ve come here to drink.” He kissed me passionately, pressing his huge body into mine. I could feel his hard dick pressing into my waist, a few inches north of my own now titanium-like member. His hand reached under my jeans and sought out my dick, where it was pressed tightly by my slim fitting jeans that may as well have been sprayed on, the struggled so much to accommodate my legs (what’s the point of training the perfect quad muscles and hip-thrusting your way to a beautiful ass if you’re not gonna show it?). He lowered down onto his knees and pulled me out of my pants. With a smile, he said, “I like a well-groomed man. Good choice with the trimming.”
“Oh would you kindly shut the fuck up and suck me NOW!”
He wrapped his lips around the head of my penis, retracting the foreskin until he could wrap his tongue around my exposed bell end. The sensitivity of my uncut dick, now exposed in a way it usually wasn’t, caused explosions of pleasure somewhere behind my eyes. My head rolled back, and I looked up and the grimy ceiling of my shitty house, but I didn’t care. That beautiful man was doing things to my dick no woman had ever come close to. As I felt myself getting dangerously close to cumming already, I pushed his head back and said, “Come upstairs, this’ll be better on a bed. Up the stairs and its the door to the left.”
We took the stairs two steps at time, bounding up to my room. He went in first and jumped down on the bed, landing on his elbows, already undoing his belt. I wrenched his pants down and pulled his boxers off furiously. His massive cock, now standing erect at 8 or maybe even 9 inches bounced into the air. In the moment, I thought it might be the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. The Eiffel Tower of cocks. Fat, tall, and standing proud in the moonlight that flooded in from the curtain-less window over my bed (and somehow the same golden tanned skin tone as his body). It looked as hard as that iron-cast tower too. For a moment a strange thought crept into my head, *do nudists put sunscreen on their dicks?* I wrapped my mouth around it and tried to imagine the way my dick had been sucked and copy the motions. He smiled and said, “You haven’t done that before, have you?”
I looked up, feeling my face burning, “Maybe not, no.”
He smiled and said, “Try placing the base of your tongue against the head and then wrapping your tongue around the shaft while increasing the pressure of the base of your tongue against the head.” I did as he said and heard a pleased groan come out of him, “You’re a quick learner.” After a minute of that, I took my attention his balls, first licking them and then sucking them into my mouth individually and running my tongue all over them inside. They popped out of my mouth dripping with saliva. All the time, my hand was stroking up and down his cock, making sure to cup the head at the top and rub against it. I could feel his dick engorging with cum. “Do you want me to bring you to a finish?” He replied, “Not yet. No one has been fucked yet.”
“I’ve… never had a dick in my ass, so I think *this*,” I waved his huge dick through the air, “might be a bit much for a first time.”
He laughed, “So you want to top then?” With my nodded reply, he turned around and stuck his ass into the air. “I’m presuming you’ve done *this* before.”
It was my turn to laugh, “I have.” I smacked my dick against his ass cheek and pulled on a condom, noting the way arching up like this tensed his calves and pulled his traps on his back out. I groaned from the sheer sexiness of his body. My dick slid in, eliciting a satisfied groan from him. I started, slowly, adding an inch of depth to every few thrusts until I was slowly thrusting my whole shaft deep into his ass. He groaned, burying his head in the bed and said, “Fuck me, fucking pound my fucking ass.” From where I was, I could see out the window past the bed. The house opposite had an identical bedroom facing this one. I could see the wife who lived in that house standing at the window, watching us. *Enjoy the show honey,* I thought to myself.
With that, I moved my right leg forwards, ahead of my left, creating leverage and I started thrusting with every ounce of force I could generate. I thought, with a satisfied smile, *Next time you watch me hip-thrust with 200KG on the bar you’ll be thinking about me pounding the shit out of you*. A moment later a second, less satisfied thought intruded, *Will I get a boner whenever I’m doing hip thrusts now?* The virtually skin-tight gear I wore the gym wouldn’t hide that at all. I felt my dick swelling up as my cum got ready to explode out of my dick. I groaned, “I’m going to cum. I’m going to fucking cum.” One last monstrous thrust knocked him forwards, banging his head on the windowsill by the bed. I groaned again and grunted like I was doing a heavy squat as my large and warm load filled the condom. A few soft, shallow thrusts came involuntarily, the last twitches of a dying orgasm.
He rolled around onto his back, holding his head, “My head is gonna be a different shape in the morning. I think the least you owe me is to blow me until I blow.” I stopped, “You should put a condom on, right?” He shrugged, “alright, if you wanna be safe.” I shrugged too, “Better safe than sorry, you know what they say.” He sat up and picked a condom of my nightstand, tearing the packet with his teeth and pulling it over his dick. He sat back on his elbows and his hands motioned to his crotch, “Go on then, bring me bliss.”
I laughed and climbed down to his dick and started sucking it again. Noticing the strange change in texture with it now wrapped in plastic. *This is nowhere near as good for me either*, I thought to myself. Ever the trooper, I carried on, sucking with my mouth and squeezing down hard with my hand, that followed my mouth up and down the shaft at a slight delay. I could feel the dick pushing back against my hand more and more until he started breathing heavily and then without saying anything his hips thrust up into me face’s downward movement. He let out a long groan that eventually turned into a satisfied smile as his cum caused the condom to inflate slightly with his gigantic load.
A few moments of silence sat between us. I noticed the silhouette of that woman still standing at her window.
He said, “You know what I’d kill for right now, a cup of tea?”
“You know, me too.”
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ovgy0q/the_education_of_a_bisexual_man_module_bi_101
Wow that was great